


Hum

by FroldGapp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Family, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14341146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroldGapp/pseuds/FroldGapp
Summary: Krolia wanted to hear it just once. The word that sounded like home. "Mom."





	Hum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfsan11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsan11/gifts).



> Get at me: https://froldgapp.tumblr.com  
> Drabble from tumblr

The red lion’s scuffed metal hummed beneath the pads of Krolia’s fingers. The lofty hangar behind her was cool and empty. She shivered and closed her eyes, feeling suddenly outside herself; fragmented and ready to drift off in a thousand ashy pieces. Her son. Her boy of downy hair and chubby, grasping fingers had flown this fine machine of death, this unholy Altean God-beast. She’d left him safe in swaddling blankets, and found him with a blade pressed against her throat. The universe for which she’d abandoned him, had turned her by the shoulders back towards her guilt: a pair of violet eyes, lonely and bold. Her eyes.

She pressed her forehead against Red’s vast maw. ‘Please tell me you kept him safe.’

‘She did.’

Krolia whipped around to see her son, dressed in a simple black shirt, his undersuit pulled down to his hips, empty arms hanging loosely against his thighs. He held two juice pouches, one in each hand. He approached her in a wide arc, as wild as she remembered him when he used to toddle around the porch in chase of dandelion seeds. He held one out to her.

She accepted it slowly, careful not to brush his hands; terrified the contact would vanish him like in so many dreams.

He smiled, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. God, he had his father’s smile: hopelessly bashful, single dimple like a crescent moon.

‘It’s good!’ he claimed, with light indignation.

‘Th-ank you,’ Krolia stammered, and took a draught of the pouch. It was overly sweet and slick as engine oil. She said nothing, just watched Keith’s open, expectant face as she drank the foul liquid down. She finished, suppressing a grimace.

Keith laughed: a series of breathy chirps. A song from the back of his throat. He laughed. He _laughed_. ‘Not for you, huh?’

‘It’s very…’ she struggled. ‘Horrible.’

This won a proper bark. He quieted, looked at her, and exploded again.

‘What?’ Krolia grumbled. The joke was lost on her. Earth humour loved idiots: she hoped the idiot in question wasn’t her. ‘What’s so funny?’

Keith wiped at one eye with the heel of his hand. ‘You just…’ He almost lost himself, but kept it in with a palm to his mouth. ‘You’re…just… You’re…’ There he went again.

She thrust the empty pouch at his chest, earning a soft _ooft!_ from him. A low growl struck up from within the lion, she tutted back at the beast, tempted to throw a foot at it.

Keith eventually regained himself. His eyes met hers, and it looked–for the moment it takes a comet to split the sky–like he might say the word and call her home. _Mom._

She waited: breath held, heart hammering.

He placed a hand against the lion’s nose. ‘She kept me safe.’


End file.
